


bones of my bones

by patrichor



Series: sbi stories [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (respawning but semi-realistic), 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Panic Attacks, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Sensory Overload, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Temporary Character Death, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Video Game Mechanics, Wilbur Soot Has a Bad Time, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot-centric, he really just has shit luck with arrows huh, implied suicidal thoughts, really just a couple lines about his thing with not wearing armor, the very last part has a depiction of something between the two, this is like the second+third time i've written him being killed by archers, very very vague!, wilbur stop getting shot challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28768404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrichor/pseuds/patrichor
Summary: five times wilbur respawned alone, and one time he didn't (plus what happened after.)expansion on a line from my previous fic every step (that i ran to you), but this one can be understood just fine without reading the other one.
Relationships: Eret & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: sbi stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078391
Comments: 24
Kudos: 378





	bones of my bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ACardboardBox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACardboardBox/gifts).



> thanks to ACardboardBox for the prompt :) this was a lot of fun to write!
> 
> i really intended to leave it for an undetermined amount of time later, but my brain wouldn't stop thinking abt it and before i knew it i had like. two and a half sections written :'

**1.**

wilbur is fifteen the first time he dies. people have had their first deaths younger, but it's still not common where they live. he's finally managed to convince phil to let him go mine on his own, provided he doesn't stray far from what's already been dug. he agrees- it's more about the adventure, really, than about what he can find- and sets off in the morning with a promise to keep an eye on the time and be home before dark.

it's bad luck that kills him, plain and simple. the day he picks to go mining is the day of a minor earthquake- that is, minor for those aboveground. as the earth shakes itself apart around him, wilbur scrambling desperately to find some kind of cover, rocks continue to hit him and leave gashes in his skin.

that isn't what kills him. a large rock falls from above him and collides with his skull with a sickening _crack_. he thinks he loses time after that, because all he really remembers is feeling dizzy and nauseous, and flashes of consciousness fading in and out as he lies in the cave floor, on the wrong side of the debris that's the only thing standing between him and safety.

if promptly treated, such head wounds are unlikely to be fatal. but even if wilbur still had the strength to move, he's partially under rubble that would have kept him pinned regardless. at some point he drifts into unconsciousness a final time and simply doesn't wake up-

-until he does, body buzzing with an unfamiliar energy that he'll later come to associate with respawning. it gives him the strength to pull himself from under the rubble and stagger back to the tunnel that connects to the main mine. the collapsed cave has been partially cleared through the past day or so, though not yet enough for someone to get through safely, and rescue workers direct him to sit and wait until they can break through. they ask him his name and if there's anyone they can contact, and he tells them to call phil.

his hair is still matted and bloody, and there are new scars on his skin from where the larger rocks hit him, but by the time phil and techno get there he's very much alive, sitting wrapped in a shock blanket. embarrassingly, he bursts into tears the moment he sees them. the cleric assures them heightened emotions are normal after respawning, especially if one died from a head injury, but it doesn't really make wilbur feel better.

he sees the lingering fear in phil's eyes as he holds him tightly, and the way techno doesn't speak but won't leave his side for more than a moment for nearly a week until he's sure that wilbur won't vanish as soon as he turns his back. if this was how they felt about just hearing about his death, how much worse would it be if they actually saw his body? if he saw theirs, he thinks, it would break him. he promises himself to never do that to his family.

**2.**

years later, he does, in fact, vanish when technoblade's back is turned. not intentionally and definitely against his will, but as he stands on a piece of bedrock above the void he doubts it makes much of a difference in the end.

sky gods, what if he never gets out? will they wait for him forever, or after a few years will they accept that he's probably dead and move on? he shivers, as much at his morbid thoughts as at the chilly air.

he's seventeen, and he's died a few more times since the first but managed to keep it lower than average... until now, at least. he's just put on his new boots from the sky gods, hoping against hope that the curse of boots will break and won't screw him over this time, when he makes a misstep on the fence gate he's using as a sort of bridge and topples.

as he falls, his last coherent thought is that he hopes new milo didn't have to see that. everything after that is pain as the void eats away his very being, sending him back to respawn on his floating 'ship' above.

this time, he just sits for a while, trailing his hand in the small makeshift pond and letting new milo brush against his fingers. he knows new milo is a fish and can't tell how he's feeling, but it makes him feel a little less alone if he pretends his only companion is trying to comfort him.

he misses his family. misses late-night talks with techno when neither of them could sleep, misses quiet evenings on the porch with phil, misses playing his guitar while tommy improvises dumb and quite frankly hilarious lyrics.

oh sky gods, tommy. he'd been living with them for almost two years now, and wilbur isn't self-deprecating enough to not notice how tommy looks up to him. for wilbur to just vanish like that... it must be hurting them all. he stares out across the unforgiving horizon and sighs, pushing himself to stand. maybe if he plays the sky gods' game well, they'll let him go home someday.

**3.**

wilbur's next particularly memorable death happens soon after he turns nineteen.

techno had left a while ago to compete in tournaments, and wilbur had stayed for tommy's sake but he couldn't ignore the wanderlust in his bones any longer. he only got tommy to agree to stay behind by promising to be careful, come back soon, and not go too far away.

wilbur tries, he really does, but it's so freeing to be on the move that he forgoes caution almost entirely. he leaves a village in favor of finding a tree or cave to spend the night in, unlit torches in his pocket. he doesn't account for the unusually high number of mobs in the area.

the first warning he gets is a hissing behind him, and he's sprinting away on instinct even before consciously registering the source of the noise. he throws a glance over his shoulder to see a creeper trundling along behind him, but he's faster until he trips on a tree root he missed in the dim moonlight and falls, a sharp pain lancing through his ankle.

he rolls over and slashes the creeper with his iron sword, buying himself an extra few seconds to scoot backwards frantically. when the explosion hits, he's far enough away that it doesn't hurt him nearly as much as it could have. sighing and stumbling to his feet, he uses the iron sword as a makeshift cane and limps back toward the road he'd been traveling on.

he pays more attention to his surroundings now, but can do nothing to stop the arrow that slams into his forearm or the sharp cry of pain that leaves him at the impact. shit. if mobs weren't already swarming to his location, they would be now. he starts to run, but finds that along with the sprained ankle, he's slowed by an effect from the arrow.

he can do nothing but try and keep the mobs at bay with his sword, but they're faster than him and he receives more injuries, the most concerning being a spider bite. he's quickly losing energy from the venom, and finally collapses, nearly blacking out.

he's ready for one of the mobs targeting him to strike the killing blow, but they are not that merciful. he is left alone on the ground, far from the path from which help could have come, and he bleeds out alone on the forest floor.

when he wakes up he doesn't know how many days it's been, and he never makes any real effort to find out. maybe a visit home wouldn't be a bad thing, he thinks. it's already been nearly a month and a half since he saw his family last, and while he doesn't plan on explaining what happened he doesn't think phil will ask too many questions if he doesn't volunteer the information. tommy's another matter, but he's easy enough to deflect.

yeah, wilbur decides as he slings his miraculously undamaged guitar over his shoulder and turns in the direction of home, it would be really nice to see them again.

**4.**

he's a general now. general soot, they call him, and he knows he hasn't been a fighter in years so he trusts tommy and tells him to lead the fifth battalion into battle.

even if he doesn't lead them in battle, they're still his men and he's responsible for their safety. they followed him to revolution, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone but himself pay the price.

so he sets himself up on l'manberg's walls and fires at the enemy a few times, gaining their attention. he makes a game of it, almost- how long between shots? will his targets have moved?- but really all he wants is for the enemy to be focused on him.

every arrow they fire at him is one less aimed toward his men.

but he's still young, still reckless, still thrives on just a little too much risk. he makes sure his men wear the best armor they can get their hands on. he leaves his own armor stand untouched.

not that it would have helped. the arrow lodged in his throat, sending him stumbling back from the force of it hitting him. he tips backward and falls amidst the truimphant shouting of the enemy army, but even as everything begins to fade he can faintly hear tommy shout his name. a savage, blood-speckled grin stretches across his face, because they are winning. they are winning, and he has done his job and his men are safe. really, a few of his lives are no price at all.

the last thing he's aware of is the cold shock of hitting the river that runs alongside the walls, sound cutting out as he lets his eyes drift closed.

he learns from tommy later that by the time they could deal with the remnants of the enemy army and get back, the river had already swept his body away. tommy's eyes are faintly shadowed and he doesn't let wilbur leave his sight for a full day afterward, but it's so much better to be missing and worry him than let him see the corpse of his older brother with blood blossoming from the wound on his neck.

he repeats the promise he made to himself. if at all possible, he will not let his body be discovered until after he is already alive again. unintentional and involuntary as it was, he already hurt his family when the sky gods pulled him from his home to play their sick games.

he will not hurt them any further. not if there's another way.

**5.**

he is the first to respawn after the final control room. he wakes to a room stained with blood, and undertakes the heartbreaking task of carrying each of his men's bodies to a saferoom tommy had shown him shortly before the fighting started.

tubbo is small, and with his eyes closed and chest still he looks even smaller. he'd grown on wilbur, becoming almost like a second younger brother. wilbur takes anything soft he can find, and makes a pillow under tubbo's head. he does not cry.

fundy, his little champion, his son. he cradles his child in his arms and feels the same devastation he's sure phil must have felt every time one of them respawned. he closes his son's eyes and lays him down with infinite care, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he does not cry.

tommy, his baby brother, the one he'd promised phil he would protect with his life. technically, he had when he moved between punz and tommy's back and took a fatal hit. it doesn't make him feel any better. he still failed. tommy still died. he lays tommy down next to tubbo, taking their hands and folding them together. he does not cry.

...eret, his friend, someone he'd trusted whole-heartedly. he'd opened up to him, confided his fears and the stresses of leadership, and she had offered reassurance and listened without judgement. but they weren't dead, was he? she'd simply decided l'manberg and their friends mattered less than a crown, and wilbur kneels and grieves for the person he'd thought eret was. he does not cry.

_(and if later, when everyone has respawned and is safely asleep in a pile in the camarvan, wilbur climbs up onto its roof and silently sobs until he has no more tears left to cry, that's between him and the stars silently watching from above.)_

**+1.**

technoblade has lost control.

he forms an empire with their father and takes over every territory, ignoring or heavily taxing those who live in countries now part of the antarctic empire.

in some ways, phil is worse. he uses the planes to drop airstrikes wherever and whenever he chooses, earning himself the moniker _angel of death_. neither of them show any mercy.

wilbur pushes aside his doubts and stands before the leaders of every nation yet unconquered, and he speaks. phil always said his greatest strength was his words, but he never truly understands until he sees the effect his words have on the crowd.

they stand with him, every single one.

diplomacy is the first course of action, but deep inside they all know that this world is headed straight to war. it breaks wilbur's heart when he looks at his brother across the negotiating room and sees the blood god looking back in his twin's place.

wilbur is still young, but he leads the negotiations alongside a few others. he doesn't know what to make of the pride on phil's face when their eyes meet, and he looks away first. somewhere inside, though, it gives him hope. his father is still there. the angel of death is still phil. so maybe there's hope for his brother as well.

negotiations fall through as expected, but they tried to use words instead of violence first. now, though, wilbur must put aside his persuasive words and passionate speeches and turn to the sword. he's reluctant to let tommy fight, but agrees on the condition that he will stay near wilbur throughout the battle. tommy protests, but wilbur puts a hand on his shoulder and stares him in the eye.

"please, tommy. you know who we're up against. if anything happens... i can't lose you too."

tommy promises, and they march for battle. wilbur asks only one thing from his fellow leaders- to capture the emperors so they can stand trial, not to kill them. his relation to them is hardly a secret, and it takes little persuading to get them to agree. he suspects that for many the chance to be the ones enacting justice is their main motivator, but he doesn't mind. whatever stops his family while keeping them alive.

technoblade has always been a sight to behold on the battlefield. he cares far more for the warring part of their heritage than wilbur ever has, and as his blade is stained darker and darker red, it's as though he was created solely for this violence.

wilbur hates it. hates seeing his twin, intimidating to others but always gentle with wilbur, moving and killing so emotionlessly. their eyes meet momentarily, and wilbur bites his lip at the blank look in his brother's eyes. he's being consumed by his bloodlust now, and very little will be able to snap him out of it.

he's pulled forcibly back into the present when he catches sight of phil, completely decimating the soldiers around him. just as the older man is about to strike a killing blow on a wounded soldier, a figure steps between and meets his sword with their own.

phil was the one who originally taught wilbur how to fight. they both know each other as only family can, and even after so long on opposite sides they're still so in sync. but wilbur has traveled far, and learned much more than what phil taught him. the two lock blades again and again, raining blistering blows on each other's shields as the fight around them cleared. no one wanted to get in the middle of their flashing swords.

"phil, stop this," wilbur calls, ducking underneath a swing aimed directly at his throat. "surrender and stand trial, and your men will not be harmed. i give you my word."

"yeah, no." phil laughs slightly, enjoying trading blows with his son far more than he would admit. "somehow i don't think that's gonna happen," he finally smashes through wilbur's shield with a crushing blow, only for wilbur to feint and kick phil's own shield off his arm in a move phil certainly had never taught him.

"it doesn't have to go like this, phil," his boy keeps trying, a stubborn glint in his eye. "we don't have to fight each other."

"what, are you gonna surrender?"

and wilbur laughs at that, a humorless sound that pokes at the buried guilt in phil's heart. "we both know that isn't an option."

phil frowns, eyes betraying something close to sadness. but as much as it pains him for his family to be on opposite sides, in the end he has to stand with technoblade. wilbur and tommy have each other, he'd told himself, they'll be fine but techno won't be if he's alone. he needs someone on his side.

for the first time, seeing wilbur's face grim and tired beyond his years and his lack of armor compared to everyone else with at least a full set of varying materials, he realizes that maybe tommy wasn't the only one of his children who needed his older brother.

"wil-" he starts to say, pausing for just a moment. the moment is his undoing, because wilbur's head snaps up and his eyes _widen_.

hands collide with phil's chest, catching him off-guard enough to send him stumbling backwards.

unfortunately, this means he has a devastatingly clear view of the emotions that pass across his boy's face as the arrow sinks into his chest.

realization as he sees the archer behind phil. desperation as he lunges. relief as phil stumbles back. surprise and pain and fear all swirl together on his face to paint a story phil has always fervently wished to never have to see.

he drops his sword, catching his son in his arms as the boy staggers and sinks to the ground. he hears tommy scream in rage or fear, maybe both, but everything sounds as if it's coming through a thick layer of water as he holds his son gasping for breath in his lap and tries desperately to find a way to stem the bleeding.

technoblade is lost in a haze of red. enemies blur together as they fall to his blade, but he is abruptly pulled back to full awareness as a haunting cry rings out over the battlefield. he isn't the only one; his youngest brother has lungs like no one else and his scream echoes across each corner of the battlefield.

he turns, only to see his twin falls to his knees, sword dropping from his weak grasp. his face is pale, paler than techno has ever seen, and a surge of white-hot fury rises up inside him. this is not the urge for blood that has driven him for so long, this is the need to protect that he had suppressed.

he is already moving before he realizes, allies and enemies alike stumbling aside before his terrifying gaze. his weapons are discarded and forgotten somewhere along the way, and he falls to his knees beside his brother, blood god no longer.

tommy sees it all as if in slow-motion, but can do nothing to stop it. without realizing it, as he stumbles into a run towards his brother his mouth opens and he _screams_.

for so long now, it's just been him and wilbur after their father and brother left. and he knows he will respawn, he knows! but it doesn't make seeing the blood dripping from wilbur's mouth hurt any less. he cuts around the injury with practiced movements to expose the wound without jostling the arrow still embedded in his stomach. and... oh god. he was hardly a model student in the first-aid class wilbur had insisted on him taking, but he knew enough to recognize wither poison.

beside him, phil makes a choked sound in the back of his throat at the sight, and technoblade falls to his knees at wilbur's side with a clank of armor.

wilbur might not have more than a split second to react when he spots the archer behind phil, lining up his attack- it had been more instinct than anything- but he doesn't regret it. he just wishes it would hurry and stop _hurting_ already.

he's vaguely aware of yelling and arms catching him as he falls, but there's a haze of fog between him and the rest of the world. he sees his father's face, looking heartbroken but unharmed, and smiles weakly up at him. he has to try twice to get his voice to work, but in the end he forces out strangled words.

"r'you... okay?" if it were possible, phil's face crumples even further as he chokes back tears.

"yeah, son, i'm okay." he says, and wilbur relaxes. his eyes start to drift closed and then a hand is cupping his cheek urgently, lifting his head.

"hey, nope, it's not time to sleep yet. you gotta stay awake a little longer, wil, okay? just a little longer,"

wilbur thinks he hums in vague acknowledgement, but his eyes wander over to two figures approaching at a run. tommy was closer and reaches him first, settling behind him and taking wilbur into his arms. when phil looks about to protest, tommy shoots him a warning glare.

"don't." he snaps. "you haven't fuckin been here, so back off."

wilbur frowns hazily and reaches up with a shaky hand, fingers barely brushing tommy's cheek. "tommy.. s'okay," he breathes, starting to cough. tommy, panicked, helps him turn his head to the side just in time as blood splutters from between his lips.

and then a hand is in his, and his eyes fill with relieved tears when he looks up to see his twin looking back at him, mask abandoned on the ground.

''techno,'' he mouths with a bloody smile, unsure if he's actually saying anything or just making rasping sounds. his brother squeezes his hand, and he figures either way he was understood. "..missed you."

techno's face twists, and he smooths it back out through sheer force of will. "missed you too." he mutters, voice thick.

wilbur's face lights up, and he curls his fingers inward to get as close as he can to squeezing techno's hand.

the wither poison is spreading, black veins visible crawling up his chest. with how close it already is to his heart, he most likely has only moments to live.

he turns his head back to tommy, using he last of his strength to curl into his baby brother without losing his barely-there grip on techno's hand.

he breathes in.

he doesn't breathe out.

the world watches as the feared emperor of the antarctic, the blood god, feared killer of thousands, holds a limp hand in both of his and cries.

**++1**

wither poison is one of the more unpleasant ways to die, and one of the slowest to respawn from.

wilbur opens his eyes slowly, finding himself in a bed he doesn't remember going to sleep in. he doesn't remember a lot, actually, but when he tries to sit up he feels a brief stab of pain from his abdomen. he lifts a hand to find bandages wrapped around his middle, but stubbornly continues easing himself to a sitting position anyway.

it's only then that he sees a familiar figure sitting in a chair next to his bed, clearly sleeping, and he's abruptly thrown into memories of watching phil sit at his brothers' bedsides while waiting for them to respawn.

dying and returning is a difficult process in more ways than one. beyond the obvious physical toll, the mind isn't designed to withstand extended exposure to the void. the longer a respawn takes, the more serious the aftereffects. it's highly recommended that no one be alone after respawning of at all possible, as having someone there to help ground the newly-revived person mitigates the worst of it.

wilbur has always taken care to hide himself if he's dying, and so has always respawned alone. he's also never been dead for longer than a week, and so almost doesn't recognize the overwhelming humming in his mind as a heightened version of the usual post-respawn buzz. all he knows is that his thoughts are scattering and the bandages burn him, he's clawing at his chest and suddenly there are hands on his pulling them away and a voice saying words he doesn't understand and then-

then he's enfolded into a soft hug, phil rocking back and forth gently and letting him hold on as tightly as he needs to center himself.

and there's still buzzing filling his mind, but somehow it's drowned out by the gentle pressure of arms around him and a hand stroking his back, and he realizes that he's gasping for breath and tears are running down his face, and clings to his father all the tighter.

eventually, his breathing has slowed to normal levels and he's no longer shaking as badly, and phil gently pulls back while still keeping a wing around his back to provide support. wilbur looks up to see his brothers hovering anxiously in the doorway, moving forward when he makes eye contact. tommy stops just short of throwing himself into wilbur's arms until he holds them open in invitation, the younger blond climbing into the bed and wrapping his arms around wilbur's chest, careful around the bandages.

"hey, tommy." wilbur says hoarsely, folding his arm around his brother and holding him. "sorry i worried you."

tommy sniffs loudly. "don't ever do that again." he demands, letting go of wilbur to grab his shoulders. "what you said before- it goes both ways, bitch. i can't lose you either." the last part is mumbled into wilbur's shirt, but all three others in the room are hybrids and can hear him plenty well. phil and techno share a sorrowful gaze, realizing the extent of their mistakes, and techno moves to kneel beside the bed, putting him at eye level with wilbur.

"i'm sorry." he says plainly, hating the mix of surprise, hope, and caution on his twin's face. "i- lost myself, for a while. and i hurt people, but most importantly i hurt you. i'm so sorry."

there's more to his apology, but wilbur doesn't give him a chance to finish before reaching out with his free hand, tears already spilling over. techno lets himself be drawn into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his younger brothers in turn. 

"i forgive you," wilbur says softly, as though to speak any louder than a quiet murmer would somehow shatter the strange, timeless feeling the room was wrapped in. "you- you hurt a lot more than just me, and we are going to have to talk about that, but for my part.. of course i forgive you."

techno just nods and rests his head on his newly-alive again brother's chest, letting the sound of his steady heartbeat ease the lingering anxiety. he doesn't trust himself to speak without becoming emotional, so he remains silent and trusts wilbur will understand, like he always does. the arm around him shifting and a hand coming up to cup the back of his neck assures him that yes, wilbur knows what techno has never been able to say with words. _i love you too, technoblade._

phil smiles softly at the sight of his little family, united once more. he's going to have nightmares about wilbur dying in his place for the rest of his life, and at some point he'll need to talk to him about his reckless behavior and get an explanation for why wilbur has clearly been suffering from symptoms of solo respawns, but those are conversations for later. right now, he just wraps his wings around his sons and holds them close.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :) i promise i'll write other things that aren't wilbur dying. eventually. ok i mean technically hes already dead in the chatfic but u get what i mean :'
> 
> ok i've been looking at this for too long no more editing, you get what u get
> 
> enjoy :)


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